That Secret Year
by pineconeface711
Summary: How do you get over someone who wasn't yours from the start. Percy believes that it he can get over Thalia silently. But secrects aren't secrets forever. AU.


**Disclaimer: This is heavily based off The Secret Year by Jennifer R. Hubbard- which I do not own.**

Thalia died on the Fourth of July in a car crash. The party was this fancy country club, and she got so shit-faced her best friend had to drive her home. Her best friend, I knew was Silena. And she didn't have a huge reputation of getting drunk. Neither did Thalia.

Then again what did I know? I never went to the country club with Thalia. Or anywhere else with her- besides the lake in the woods where college kids liked to have wild parties in the summer. That's where we met every Friday for the past year.

She'd come driving in her fancy white Audi. And we'd make out (or do something more). Sometimes on in the summer, we'd even jump in the lake.

But no one knew we had this relationship that lasted a year.

We had our reasons why no one knew about us. Thalia lived in the good part of Atlanta- Sturbridge Drive. Her house could probably fit my whole street on it. Her room could probably fit just my house in it. Her servants (the ones that lived in her house.) rooms were possibly were greater than or equal to my house too. Her mom was some has been actress from the eighties, so they had a lot of money to waste on stuff like high tech security systems (unlike my beware of the dog sign. Which wasn't useful seeing as I didn't own a dog), and maids, servants, and personal chefs.

I lived in the crappier part of town. It wasn't a ghetto, but it wasn't a sparkling beauty. My house was old and not doing so well when it rained to hard. There was a total of one car, which my mom usually used so she could transport herself around Atlanta to her various waitressing gigs.

Don't give me that sympathetic glance. Thalia and I were not Romeo and Juliet. We aren't these two tragic figures that are waiting to be reunited in heaven. Our relationship wasn't forbidden by our parents; though her mom might have thought she could do better than me, and her grandma would think I was a junkie.

Thalia never said it out loud, but I knew she cared what her friends would think. She always pretended that she was her own woman and no one could put her down. That was bullshit. I've heard Silena in the halls poking fun at her hair. Thalia would get so defensive. That's how I knew she was scared on what her friends might think of me:

That I was trash.

We were both in relationships when it we first started meeting. I had been going out with Annabeth for a few months when it started. Two months later I broke it off with Annabeth, but not for Thalia. Annabeth, I'd rather have as friend than as a girlfriend.

Thalia had been going out with Luke Castellan since freshman year. He lived on her side of town and was a real asshole. He thought his wealth was there because he existed. Not because his dad graduated from college and worked his ass off.

They went to parties together, held hands, sat with each other, and made out in school hallways. None of that made me envious whatsoever. Sure it would have been nice if we could actually acknowledge in public, but instead we pretended as if we were strangers.

She was a better actor than I was. She also had it harder. I was a guy, and she was hot. It made sense that I looked at her. If Thalia was caught looking at me it was different. I was a nobody from the nowhere part of town with loser friends.

One time I saw her glancing at me. I used my acting skills and didn't look at her. Silena asked her what she was doing.

"Huh?" Thalia replied and looked dazed.

"What are you doing Thales? You were staring straight at that boy over there!" Silena gestured, "You were completely ignoring me!"

Thalia rolled her eyes. "Sorry I was spacing out. Ugh, I was so caught up with that Spanish I took first period. I completely forgot everything when Ms. Silla passed it out."

Just like that the two went on about Spanish. See Thalia was a good actor.

I found out about the car crash the next day.

"Dude," Conner told over the phone, "Y'know that actress who has that daughter who goes to our school." He paused for a moment, and I waited for him to continue – knowing full well that he was talking about Thalia. "Theresa?" He said, but I heard Annabeth shout 'Thalia' in the background. "Yeah, Thalia. She's dead."

That made fully awake, "What?"

"Yeah, she and Sarah-"I heard Annabeth shout Silena, "Got into this wicked accident. Silena's all bruised and like in the hospital."

"How do you know this?" I said, hoping that it was just some sick humored gossip.

"Newspaper, man. The story made the cover."

After I was off the phone with Conner, I looked for the paper. And just as Connor had said, the story was on the cover. The picture was off a black Jaguar smashed against a granite mail box stand. And there wasn't much else that Connor hadn't said- except that it wasn't drunk driving. Silena was sober and driving. Thalia was not.

I was still hopeful because the newspaper didn't release names, but I also knew that Connor's dad worked for the paper and could have been told to not release the names. I also knew that was Silena's car. And Thalia's Audi wasn't available.

I became so desperate for answers I called her cell phone. Normally I wouldn't bother because of our secret, but I said I was desperate.

It went to voice mail. Again and again. Hour after hour.

Every time the call went unanswered, I remembered the last time we had met. And it was so typical- perfect even- that we had a huge fight. It was one of _those_ fights. The one where no you can never truly apologize because you've already been cut too deep.

I tried to swat that out of my mind over and over. Now wasn't the time to think about it; not that I ever wanted to remember that night. Instead of focusing on that, I tried to only focus on putting the pieces together to prove that Thalia was alive.

I watched the news at eleven. There was a car crash late on the night of July Fourth. The passenger had died. The driver was in the hospital. The driver was named Silena Beauregard. The passenger remained nameless.

I knew then that she was dead, but a tiny part of me still denied. And that part waited every day for the story to change because of identity confusion. I waited for her at the lake. Looked for her around the mall. She was never anywhere.

I still looked for her after the names were released and after there was a memorial service for her and after her obituary came out.

I still called her cell, but no one ever answered. Eventually her parents cut off the service for it. I was even more tempted to call the house, and I did. But the voice over the phone said the residence was no longer accepting calls.

Silena did live. She a broken wrist and a concussion. She told her friends that indeed, Thalia was drunk, and kept having to throw up to lean out the window. This was how she died.

Silena wasn't coping very well. Rumors went around that she couldn't stay in town after seeing her best friend die, and had to be shipped to aunt's house in Florida.

I believed it because she wasn't at the funeral. I went and so did the entire high school. No one bothered to ask me what the hell I was doing here because some of these people didn't even know Thalia at all.

Luke was there, and in his Armani suit. If Thalia was actually going to break up with at that party like she told me (though I didn't believe her. She always talked on and on about how she was going to break up with him.), he didn't seem to care. Maybe he was a good actor too. He got to sit with family. Thalia's mom even wept on his shoulder. Everyone around me kept saying poor Luke. I bet he enjoyed the attention.

After that funeral, I finally began to accept her death. And after that day, I was now the only person who knew about us. Who knew about our secret year. I had been good at keeping that secret. And acting as though it never happened.

Yet even then I should have realized that secrets don't stay secrets forever.

**A/N: This is pretty much a preface, so it's pretty damn short compared to the rest of the fic.**

**I'm a review whore/prostitute, so please do review. And flaming counts; which I so expect. **

**You know you love me,**

**Bianca**


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